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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474275">Your Best Friend</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagelistrying/pseuds/bagelistrying'>bagelistrying</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Asgore Dreemurr Needs a Hug, Description Heavy, During Canon, Flowey (Undertale) Being an Asshole, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Random &amp; Short, Sad Vibes, Short, Short &amp; Sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:29:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagelistrying/pseuds/bagelistrying</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Barrier creeps closer, so does Frisk’s decision. But it appears someone else already has their opinions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Your Best Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The only Undertale work I’ve done was a crossover, and just wanted something to have here. I really liked the scene and made a few changes, so I hope you enjoy this random pile of descriptions!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Frisk whipped the knife through the air, her eyes glimmering with triumph as it sank into the flesh of its target. With the blow, Asgore crumpled to the ground in front of her, his cape in shreds over his broad shoulders. The crown lay askew on his head, jewels studding the top having lost their shine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like you’ve won.” He told her, sucking the air through his teeth and grasping the wound on his chest. “You know what to do. It’s... your choice.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frisk watched the figure trembling on his knees. She could escape. Everything she needed was there, the image of her home throbbing in the back of her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her palms, though sweaty, tightly grasped the dagger. She could go back, live happily, only if she finished the job. But her grip on the knife, holding it back, the frustration stinging in the back of her eyes... she didn’t want to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hand loosened on the knife. She felt the handle slide through her fingers, wincing as it clattered to the ground beside her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The low, familiar voice swam through her ears again. “After everything I’ve done to hurt you...” Asgore had looked up. “You choose to stay here, and suffer,” his voice was still exhausted and raspy, driven by pain. “Instead of killing me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Frisk nodded, the cool air brushing against her empty palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will promise you something. Because of what you’ve done, we can stay here forever. And though it’s not your home, we can make it feel like one. You, I, and Toriel. We could tell stories, eat butterscotch pie... like a family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frisk smiled at the ground. As she reached forward to help him up, something rustled. In the moment she glanced around for it, a soft click rang around them. <br/></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something had shot through the air, the whizzing of a tiny bullet all too familiar. As the projectile landed directly in the side of Asgore’s neck, his expression froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The ground shook slightly, and he began to fall apart. A fleck of dust brushed off his shoulder. Then another. Like a sand castle in a strong wind, dust tore at him, reducing his flesh until he was a small pile of ash on the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frisk took a step back, leaning over to pick up her dagger. Her grasp fell short, and she looked down. A thick vine covered in ugly magenta thorns had crawled out of the ground, wrapping itself around the blade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of it tore through the floor, the vine getting wider as the knife was pulled back to a mass directly behind the pile of ashes. More vines crept over each other, tangling themselves excitedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On top of it all was a golden flower, rounded petals ringing simple features in the center; two beady dots for eyes, and a cookie-cutter smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you really learned nothing?” The voice was sticky and unpleasant, high pitched and childish, but choppy and overly expressive with its words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was disgustingly pleased with itself, and sudden changes in pitch caused its voice to crack every other word. “In this world...” the features in the center began to contort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eyes grew wider, hollow and spiked, pointed in and glaring at Frisk maniacally. The smile stretched up to the sides, tearing at the plant material until it formed an unhinged jaw, snapping with sharp, triangular teeth that glinted like razors amongst the writhing pile of vines.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Flowey crawled closer to her, grinning. “It’s either kill or be killed.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Nothing much, but I had a fantastic time describing Flowey’s voice. I’m interested in voice acting myself, and it would be so cool to try out. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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